Migraine Treatment
by Fallen Ark Angel
Summary: Fanboy has a headache. A bad one. Oneshot. Minor lemon.


**Reading the first book again and realized how much I missed it. So I wrote this. Minor, minor lemon. More like a lime. You blink and you miss it. **

Migraine Treatment

"Are you sick still, Daddy?"

I groaned a little, peaking open my eyes. I can barely make out Scarlett on the bed next to me, her dark brown hair falling into her face. I groaned.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, baby," I mumbled, closing my eyes again. Scarlett was my youngest and also my only girl. She was only five and though she had just stared school, she still tried to spend as much time as possible with me. Unlike her two older brothers, she still thought I was cool.

"Mommy's yellin' at Wayne."

"Why?"

"I dunno." She patted my stomach, not realizing that caused me pain. My brain no longer needed to explode though, so that was a plus. "Why'd you get sick?"

"Stress, baby." And she was, my baby. Kyra had named the boys and, after a promise not to name her anything comic book related, I got to name Scarlett. Which sucked, honestly, because when I found out she was a girl, I immediately wanted to name her Calista from Powers. Kyra said no though. I then offered up a bunch of names that started with K, wanting her to be named similar to her mother. Again, I was quickly shot down. Somehow we ended up with Scar.

"What's that?"

I just groaned. My five year old laid down next to me and cuddled against my side, whining also. I think she was upset because I was. I wanted to call out for one of the boys to come get her or Kyra, but I couldn't. That would hurt too much.

It took an hour, but eventually Kyra did miss the little one and came to look for her.

"There you are."

I opened my eyes, immediately regretting it because Kyra had turned on the light. She saw my face and quickly turned it off.

"Sorry," she said, but quickly going back to her original mission. "Scar, scram."

"I'm taking care of Daddy."

"He doesn't need you. Get lost. Go bother Wayne."

Whining some more, she ran off, not wanting to face the wrath of her mother. Kyra came to stand next to my bedside, vigilant as ever. I opened my eyes slowly, staring up at her.

Kyra was never beautiful. She could be cute and hot sometimes, but never really amazing to look at. I couldn't say much, as I wasn't either. And she was way higher of the looks scale than me. Over the years though, as we had more kids, she'd changed her style. From post-gothic to give up to now, which consisted of random t-shirts and jeans, she'd changed. Outwardly at least.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, shutting my eyes again. She was still pretty, at least. I wondered what I looked like to her now.

"You hungry? Or thirsty?"

"No."

"You haven't gotten like that in a long time."

"Stress."

"Oh, this is my fault?"

I groaned, which got Kyra to remove the no longer cold washcloth on my forehead. She leaned down and kissed my head gently. She was being nice today, because I had one of my attacks. It had been years since one, but today I was watching TV with the kids when my vision just blurred. I had Wayne call Kyra at work and tell her as I went to lay down. By the time she got home, I was already in extreme pain.

"You'll be all better tomorrow, Fanboy."

What? I opened my eyes again, not even sure when I closed them. "Fanboy?"

"Yeah, so?"

She hadn't called me that in at least a year. And I knew this, seeing as that's when we both stopped caring about the other. I'm not one of those stupid people that think you'll love the person you're with forever, but we'd gone through the roughest patch yet this past year. Usually, when we were in a slump, we at least liked each other. Not this time.

Really, I don't even remember why we started fighting. I just know that one day we were and it didn't get better. Ever. Then I was working as much as possible, avoiding her. She was staying out all the time, not wanting to see me either.

It's not like divorce was an option, really. Mainly because, what would life without her be like? The same. I'm no idiot. Whether I had Kyra or not, no one else wanted to be with me. And she wouldn't ever leave me. She had this big phobia about being separated. Which was fine. Most of marriage is just pushing through. And that's what we were doing.

"Nothing."

She kissed me on the lips this time, which was old, but new in the sense I hadn't had her kiss me randomly in this past year. Just to keep up appearances, really, around our family.

"I can't believe that you got so sick from…stress."

I sniffed a little. My allergies had been acting up, as it was autumn. "I just wanna sleep, Kyra."

"Then sleep." She covered me over better. "I've got to go make dinner, anyways."

Dang. I'd get it for this. Kyra did not like making food. Even for our kids. If I ever went out of town for my job, I'd always make sure to leave enough money for takeout every night and fast food for lunch.

"Money. My wallet-"

"I can cook for my kids, you know." She stroked my forehead. "I'll be back to check on you, okay?"

I just groaned. After she was gone, I fell asleep for a long time. I was woken up by Kyra climbing into bed with me. I reached over and felt her side, making her push my hand away.

"Cut it out, idiot."

So her sympathy had ended.

"Can I stay in the bed?"

"I never told you that you couldn't. You're the one that started staying up all night and sleeping during the day."

"Work."

"Sure."

It was silent for awhile and I just sat there, listening to her breathing as I started to feel better. My body didn't hurt anymore and I was kind of hungry.

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

Kyra turned to face me in the dark. "You're awake. What's wrong? Are you still sick?"

"No, I'm better."

"You're off tomorrow."

"I am?"

"Yeah. So you can just take it easy all day, alright? It's Sunday, so you don't have to do anything."

"I call Betta."

"You can do that." Kyra reaches out and runs a hand down my face. This is the most touching I had gotten in the past year or so. I liked it. A lot. "Donnie."

"What?"

She kissed my cheek. "I'm glad that you feel better."

I felt weird, her being so nice to me when I had been being a dick to her for so long. Not that she didn't deserve it, because she did, the way that she was acting towards me. Now though, none of that mattered. I couldn't even remember the fight, after all. How important could something you can't remember be? Maybe it's time to forgive each other and move on. Maybe.

"Hey, Ky?"

"What?"

"…I'm sorry."

"For getting sick?"

"No. For…whatever happened, these past few months."

She just stared at my darkened face for a long time, not speaking until she found the perfect things she wanted to say.

"Screw your effing apology."

I closed my eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that day. "Whatever, Kyra. I don't even care anymore."

I thought that we would go back to being quiet again, but suddenly, Kyra was at my lips, kissing me heavily. I struggled to sit up, which she took as an offer to sit in my lap.

"Kyra-"

"Shhh." She ran a hand down my bare stomach. All these years and I was still as boney and disgusting as always. She sighed a little, staring at me. It was then that I realized that I was just in my boxers.

"When did you take off my pants?"

"When I got home. I thought you'd be more comfortable." She shifted on my lap, which made me aroused quickly. She knew that. She knew everything that turned me on. To squelch our talking, she begins to kiss me again.

It's not like during this year we hadn't had sex. Because we had. Just sex though. Normal, boring sex you could have with a stranger when you're drunk. Of course, I don't know much about that, seeing as the only person I had ever been with was Kyra. Same boring old Kyra. I'm sure she felt the same about me.

Suddenly, she pulled back and I figured it was to take off her shirt. Which I would have been glad for. With each kid, her breasts only seemed to grow. Or maybe it's all in my mind. Instead, she got off me, sighing.

"What?"

"You're sick."

"Not now," I argued, turning on my side to face her. "Kyra-"

"Later, Fanboy. You're sick."

Unbelievable. She freaking teased me and now I wouldn't even be able to take care of myself because she was right there next to me. I couldn't do that while she was in bed with me!

"Tomorrow," she told me. "Alright?"

"No. Now."

"Shut up, stupid." She gave me her back.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, like I wasn't horny too. Asswipe."

"Ky…come on."

"Stop calling me that."

I wrapped an arm around her body, pulling her flush against me. I started kissing her neck, causing her to sigh.

"You're so cold, Don."

"How, Kyra? Because I want-"

"No. Your skin. You're cold."

"Oh."

She ran a hand down the arm that was wrapped around her. We hadn't held each other in so long. I closed my eyes, knowing that she could feel my erection in her back.

"You're sick."

"If you say so."

We lay like that the whole night. I can't sleep. My erection eventually subsides and then I'm just holding her, not letting her move. I start to get a headache after awhile, but it's nothing compared to that migraine I got before. Kyra sleeps for most of the time, but at some points, when she's awake, she strokes my arm, sighing softly.

Around seven in the morning, we're joined by Scar. She giggles when she sees us together, climbing into the bed at our feet.

"Mommy?"

"Shhh. She's sleeping," I said, not moving from my position. Scar gets behind me and cuddles against my back. All was silent until ten, when the Wayne got up and wanted food. I had to make a careful escape, not wanting to wake Kyra, but also not wanting to squash my baby behind me.

"What is there to eat?" I asked him, going over to see if there were any eggs. There were. "You know, you're eleven. I made my own food by then."

Wayne just shrugged, following me through the apartment.

"Where's your brother?"

"Still sleeping."

I nodded a little, getting the fry pan out. "Go get your sister from my room."

He went off to do so, leaving me alone. I took a handful of Tylenol when he was gone, not wanting my kids to see me do this. I don't want them taking so much medicine, whether it work for me as a teen or not.

"I said to get your sister, not your mother."

"I wanted to get up," Kyra said, walking into the room with Scar in her arms. I took the little girl and sat her on the ground.

"You're too big to be carried."

"No."

"Yes."

"What are you making?" Kyra asked me.

"Scrambled eggs. You want some?"

"No. I have to get ready for work."

"You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

I just shook my head, not going to fight with her after we just made up last night. I think. Only time will tell.

"I want eggs," Scar said, wrapping her arms around my leg. I shook her off. "Daddy-"

"Behave."

She humphed before running off, I think to go see what Kyra was doing. After making breakfast, I went back into my bedroom to get clothes for a shower. Kyra was in there, finishing getting ready.

"You feel better today?"

"Yeah," I told her, watching as she pulled her hair back into a pony tail. She no longer shaved it off, that was something that died with our high school days. Before Scar was born, she kept it short and spiked up, but that too faded. Now she looked more…motherly. Older. That's what we were. Older.

"Good. Call me if you need me."

"I will."

Kyra made me stand and she gave me a long, tight hug. I guess all is forgiven. And all this time, all I had to do was say I'm sorry and actually mean it. For what, I'm not sure, but I know that she knew. I kissed the top of her head, letting out my breath slowly. The past year I had spent hating her and I was beginning to like her again. Maybe. We'd probably be fighting by tomorrow. I think she's just remorseful because whenever I get those bad migraines, she thinks about me dying. Kyra fears being alone, that if I'm gone, no other man would want her. That might be her hell, but I hope that's true. That no other man wants her. Because if one does, he could probably make her a lot happier than I do.

I hug her back, trying to make up for the douche I've been. "I love you, Kyra."

And that wasn't untrue. I did love her. Just not right now. It was fleeting, but it'd be back. She just sighed, because she could always tell when I was lying or being truthful. I wanted to reassure her, but she had already let me go and was walking out of the room.

"Ky-"

"Shut up, Fanboy."

I smiled a little at her tone and followed.

* * *

My two boys hated my job. Mainly because they were at the age where comics weren't cool, only for losers. And it's not like my comic was that popular. And it was really just a side job. I was actually a programmer. But still, they hated every single time one of their friends wanted to meet me. Not my baby though.

"Come here, Scar. You want me to read the new issue to you?"

She climbed into my lap, nodding her head. It was late now, having spent the day watching TV and working on my comic. The boys were both in their rooms, neither enjoying my company for the most part these days. They were both getting older and I wasn't cool enough for them.

After that, it was bath time and then bed. I was sitting on the couch, watching TV when my oldest came to out of his room, looking for something. I watched as he searched the living room.

"What are you missing?"

He looked at me. "My backpack."

"Are you serious? You lost it? And you waited until today to find it?"

"Don't yell at me."

I rolled my eyes. "Have you looked in your room?"

"Yes. Duh."

I frowned at him. "Well, have you looked in-"

"It's nowhere, Dad!"

"You looked everywhere?"

"Everywhere I've been."

"It's not some huge apartment."

"I looked everywhere except…Scarlett!"

"You leave her-"

"That little brat's been taking everything from us. She steals everything." The thirteen year old headed to his sister's room. "You little brat."

I jumped up to go save my baby. Sure enough, there sat Wayne's baseball glove. Next to it was Ace's backpack.

"Hey, leave her alone. She's a little girl."

"She's a freaking thief. She knows it."

Scar, who had been sleeping, just stared at the two of us. "Daddy, I was sleeping. He's being mean to me."

"I know." I went to go tuck her back in. "Take your stuff, Ace, and go to bed. It's late."

"Whatever. You never punish her."

"Go."

He stomped off, leaving us alone. I sat down on Scar's bed. "Why'd you take his backpack?"

"I didn't."

"Scar-"

"Daddy, I'm tired."

I kissed her head. "Fine. But you need to stop taking things from your brothers. If you do it again, I'll ground you. I will."

"Okay."

"I'm serious."

"Okay!"

I patted her stomach, making her giggle. "Now go to bed. I'll be in my room if you need me."

I checked on the boys first. They shared the second bedroom, even getting their own bunk beds. They constantly complain about having to share a room, but I would have liked having a brother when I was kid.

"-takes her side on freaking everything. She fucking stole from me-"

"Watch your mouth," I said, closing their bedroom door behind me. It was kind of hard to enforce a no cursing household when Kyra is just throwing off strings of cuss words when she get angry or happy or any other emotion. "And go to bed, boys. You have school in the morning and I have work. You have to catch the bus."

After telling them it was lights out, I watched some more television before going to bed. I was most asleep when Kyra got home.

"I thought tonight was the night?"

I rolled onto my back as she got into bed with me. "Forgot."

"I thought you were so horny?"

"Ky."

"Stop calling me that."

"It's a nickname. It's better than Fanboy."

"Lies." She climbed into my lap, straddling me.

"You lock the door?"

"Yeah." She rubbed against me, laughing a little. Sex had been so unfun recently that it seemed like we were both in a race to see who could finish first. Now that we had made up though, I was going to take full advantage of it. I pulled off her shirt and stared at her bra for a minute as she undid it. Then I got what I really wanted.

It wasn't until I flipped us over a few minutes later that I realized what I truly wanted. Kyra's lips. Recently, she hadn't been wearing lipstick. And this morning she hadn't either. But now she was, apparently in anticipation of our nightly activities. She knew that her blue lipstick got me off for some reason.

I want her lips. Now. Why won't she offer them to me? She has her head turned to the side, mouth opened. That stupid blue lipstick she got into when we first got together. I want it more than I ever had at the moment. I would even settle for her old black lipstick at this point. I just want her lips.

"Ky," I groan softly, not even focusing on my hip jerks. She keeps running her hands up and down my back and I'm slightly embarrassed, because I know she can feel my spine when I hunch, which I am now, trying to get her to move her head to align with mine.

I want to yell at her to look at me, but I can't because every time I open my mouth, I moan. Not loud. Just enough. I start kissing her neck, just trying to distract myself. I know better than to bite or suck, because that would leave evidence and our boys were old enough to notice now. That could be awkward.

When she does give me her lips, I think it's an accident. She was trying to turn her head to the other side, but I catch her. And when I get her, I won't let her move. I bite, lick, and suck her lips, just like I want to do to the rest of her body. She laughs a little, but I put a stop to that because, using her open mouth to my advantage, I slither my tongue into her mouth.

I lose it then. Before Kyra. That's okay though, because that's how it usually ends for us. She just reaches down and touches herself for a second, not letting me move until she's done too. When I pull back, she opens her eyes, which I didn't realize had been closed. I move off, laying right next to her, trying to get my breathing in order. It's hard though, because I keep replaying it in my mind, trying to think of anywhere that I messed up. I do that a lot, mess up. Fumble. Kyra doesn't make notice, but I do. Even after all these years of being with the same person, I can't get it all down.

It's suddenly very quiet in the room. Which is odd, because I remember it being so loud only minutes ago, which it shouldn't have been. We were always very careful to be as silent as possible. Were we really that loud? Or was it all in my head?

"You okay?"

I glanced at her, nodding. "You?"

She rolled her eyes. "I meant about being sick, Donnie."

"You get on to me for calling you Ky and you call me that? I hate that."

She just kisses me before getting up and going to the bathroom. When she comes back, she's wiped off her blue lipstick. She dresses before leaving the room. I lay there, listening as she makes herself something to eat. She doesn't eat enough, but I can't be bothered to fight about it most of the time.

"Make me a sandwich?"

"Are you asking for one or are you asking if I made you one already?"

"Does it matter?"

"No. Either way, I'd still say no."

"I figured."

She sat down with her own sandwich and ripped in half, giving one part to me. I smiled at her, but Kyra just shook her head. After eating, we both laid back down, but we weren't touching this time.

"Night, Ky."

"Night, _Donald_."

She said my name to piss me off, but…maybe it didn't. Maybe hearing it come from her made me happy. Maybe.


End file.
